Storm
by trufflemores
Summary: It's the first big thunderstorm of the season at the loft, and Kurt and Blaine each have their own fears to bring into the mix. Luckily for them, they also have each other, which counterbalances the elements rather nicely. Klaine. COMPLETE.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit.

"Was that thunder?"

Kurt hummed in affirmation as he turned to the next page in his book, not bothering to look up as Blaine audibly paused mid-stir. Kurt had already seen the forecast for the evening and had no intention of removing himself from his comfortable nook on the couch, not before Blaine finished making his chocolate chip cookies. They'd agreed to alternate cooking nights according to work schedules, and while it had been Kurt's night to make dinner, Blaine had taken it upon himself to make cookies afterward, an easy, relaxing way for him to unwind from the day without disrupting Kurt's reading.

Listening to the soft susurrations of rain against the tiny windowsill in the corner, Kurt tilted his head to regard it and flinched at a second, considerably louder crackle of thunder nearby.

He'd always felt safe in his own home during storms with his dad around. Burt projected such an air of unflappability that Kurt doubted any storm could unseat him. Often times he would engage in some project or another to keep himself occupied, weathering the storm patiently. Kurt had never questioned Burt's ability to judge the danger that a storm posed, and only once had Burt's shoulders gone tense with concern, his hands motionless on the arms of the couch as he waited for it to pass, listening to the weather reports all the while.

Kurt drew in a deep, deliberate breath, doing his best to mask the growing unease in his chest as he flipped to the next page. He'd lost track of the story, but he refused to turn his attention away, certain that he could pick up the thread again as long as he persisted. Listening to the rain wouldn't calm his nerves, and the thunder was even less soothing. A small mercy, he conceded, was the lack of windows.

Hands clenching around the spine of the book as he waited for the next rumble of thunder, he hunched a little deeper in his pillow nest and willed the storm to pass. It didn't matter that the forecast said that storms would be passing through the area all night. Kurt didn't want to move until the storm receded, knowing what was above and beyond and around him.

Listening to the rain, unable to focus on his book, he could hear the swish of Blaine's hands folding the cookie dough into rolls, hands moving briskly across the foil to place each roll accordingly. Flinching audibly at every rumble of thunder, Blaine resumed at an even faster clip until the tray was ready to go in the oven, cleaning off his hands and depositing the tray inside with a determined plunk. Setting the timer, he padded over to Kurt and promptly made himself at home on the side of the couch not occupied by Kurt's pillows, drawing his feet onto his lap almost reflexively.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, one eyebrow arching as Blaine squeezed his feet absentmindedly, clearly distracted. Hoping to possibly entice him into a foot massage, Kurt nudged his foot against Blaine's hand pointedly.

Blaine gave it another squeeze.

Sighing, Kurt let him knead away, turning his attention to his book again until – "What are you reading?"

Arching an eyebrow as he lifted his gaze just enough to give Blaine a simple _Really, Blaine?_, he caught the faint dusting of red across the tips of Blaine's ears and cheeks, equally aware that Blaine would have been hard-pressed to miss the bold title on the front of the book.

Indulgently, Kurt replied, "The Tale of Lands II," as he held up the cover demonstratively. Flinching at another crackle of thunder as it managed to shake the whole of the apartment, he managed a halfhearted, "I really hope we don't lose power; I don't have enough battery on my phone to read anything."

"You don't think we will – do you?" Blaine asked, no small amount of alarm tinging his voice as he glanced at the ceiling.

Kurt was about to reassure him that the likelihood that they would lose power was marginal when the lights flickered, dimming for a moment before brightening again.

At once, Blaine started kneading his feet again, prompting a soft sigh – a mixture of fondness and exasperation, really – from Kurt as he set his book aside and ordered, "Come here."

"Kurt," Blaine said, apology already lacing his voice before he squeaked when Kurt grabbed his shirt and hauled him forward so they were cuddling properly. Adjusting his legs, one canted on either side of Blaine's hips, Kurt felt Blaine's arms slide around his middle, his cheek pressed against his chest.

It was oddly comforting. Even the next rumble of thunder – and subsequent flash of lightning which, tiny though their window may be, was still sufficiently terrifying – wasn't so alarming with Blaine draped over him.

Basking in the comfort for as long as he could, Kurt nudged him when the timer went off for the cookies, loathe though he was to let him go.

When Blaine returned a mere minute later with cuddles _and _cookies, Kurt decided that he could get used to Blaine channeling his fretful energy into warmth and affection. It offset his own trepidation well, providing a safety blanket against the storm, something (some_one_) to cling to and love and hold without judgment.

With Blaine at his side, the storm was no less daunting but far less invasive, unable to touch them.


End file.
